


Snowdrop

by VoidArcanist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cinderella AU, F/M, Fantasy, Kingdomstuck, M/M, Masquerade Gala, jade harley as cinderella, like... SLOW slow burn, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-06-19 18:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15516300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidArcanist/pseuds/VoidArcanist
Summary: In the kingdom of Derse, where all races, classes, and castes of people worked and played, they all at one point or another looked to the violet spires of the royal castle and wished they could be Dirk Strider. And with the royal birthday masquerade gala on the horizon, his country and his people seem a little brighter. But beyond the furthest reaches, beyond Prospit and its outskirts, one young girl named Jade Harley will dream beyond her orphan life and befriend the highest of royalty. But is trouble lurking beyond the fanfare of the masquerade?





	1. Prologue: A rose by another name

In the kingdom of Derse, where all races, classes, and castes of people worked and played, they all at one point or another looked to the violet spires of the royal castle and wished they could be Dirk Strider. The lower classes surely loved to fantasize about what happened behind those dark walls in the distance that decided their fates. Often, they knew exactly what was happening without even being there. The King’s three younger siblings would be running and playing in the palace gardens, or studying with their private tutors. The youngest would perhaps be lost in a book from her private library. The third might be learning the art of the sword from one of his many tutors. The second could be drowning her sorrows in fanciful parties. But the most certain of all was what the eldest child, the King, was doing, as he did every day of every month of every year: lying in a bathtub, feeding himself grapes. What could they say? The King sure loved his royal ablutions.

The loyal subjects of Derse could only dream about indulging themselves the way King Dirk was so well known. However, the King himself thought his life to be very difficult. So many papers to sign, declarations to make, taxes to raise. And after nothing but the same, life starts to look rather grim, even at the very top. The grapes twisted sour in his mouth, the water no longer brought relaxation. He was beginning to lose all joy in his life. But it was the little things that Dirk truly enjoyed, or perhaps the things that weren’t so little at all. For example, every year when the grass froze and December was born anew, the Derse Gala rang through every street in the country.

The first son, Dirk, was born on the third of December, and a grand gala was held so the highest duchess to the lowest peasant would know of the heir to the throne. The second child, Roxy, was born exactly a year and a day after the first. Instead of postponing Dirk’s first birthday gala so the queen could have child, the festival merely continued into the next day to celebrate Derse’s prince and princess. Precisely a year minus one day afterwards, prince Dave was born, and a year and one day after that, the fourth child, princess Rose, was born. The entire month of December was pronounced a celebratory occasion, where everyone was to parade the streets in gratitude for their gracious rulers and feast like royals themselves. The richest of the rich, however, joined the royal family at the palace ballroom, with dancing and finery fit for the nobles they were.

Prince Dirk was never fond of all the stuffy adults prying into his personal life. Royalty from far away lands would often introduce him to princesses of his age, trying to convince or often bribe him into marrying their daughters (something he had no interest in). 

When he was crowned King Dirk, however, he learned to adore the gala. When the King and Queen passed away, the title and all responsibilities that came with it was given to him. He usually shuffled as much of the real work as he could onto his advisors and delegates, not caring much for the fate of anyone outside the palace. The gala was the only event that he planned entirely on his own. Everything from the catering to the flowers to the shoes of the busboys was decided by his own hand. Despite being well-known for his quiet and peaceful demeanor, he was downright giddy whenever November was near its’ end. This year he decided to go all out, most likely an effect born from recent colossal boredom. So far, Dirk’s week had been busier than any other in his life. And from the meetings of the evening, he doubted there was a change in sight.

“The roses should be exactly as you requested, your highness.”

“Hmm…” The red and blue flowers were tinted darker through his sunshades. He rubbed the silky petals with delicately manicured hands. The King gave a slight sniff, and was pleasantly surprised with a natural scent.

“That’ll do.” He murmured, his voice deep and full-throated. 

“Oh, I’m so glad! We’ve been preparing these bulbs since the last Gala. I hope that the rest of the flowers meet your standards, your highness?”

“They do. That will be all. Leave me.”

The gardener bowed deeply. “Your majesty.” 

As the man disappeared from sight, Dirk adjusted his pointed sunglasses and admired the flowers. He was excited for the Gala, but the back of his mind was brimming with worry. This year, he would be expected to find a suitable bride, and the last thing he wanted was to start a lineage. On top of that, he was worried for his brother. Prince Dave had spent much more time in his room than usual, not eating or speaking. He was afraid that Dave was suffering from the same lack of fulfillment that he himself was, or perhaps Dave’s ailment was something far more incurable. He was even paler than usual, his sharp crimson eyes stained with a permanent longing for something indescribable. Despite their estrangements, Dirk worried for him and his cousins constantly.

Dirk took a deep breath in and held it, like he was cherishing a wistful moment. The gala was a week from now, and yet he knew that something was just beyond the horizon, waiting for his family. He could feel it, under his nails and behind his eyes. He was waiting for something. Something indescribable.

He let his breath whistle out his mouth. It was going to be a long week.

 


	2. Flower Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade runs too far from home and finds something extraordinary.

When Jade was seven years old, her last surviving relative, her grandfather, was killed in a tragic accident. Before then he was a merchant, living free and travelling to the edges of the kingdoms. When magic was banned from Prospit, he saw an opportunity arise. Using his powerful magic and strong social connections, he illegally traded potions, powders, and crystals to the black market for ridiculously high prices, securing his fortune and preserving his legacy. Jade’s mother married down and lived a relatively simple life, or so she was told. She had never met them herself, and she didn’t trust the words of grownups. They were too quick to lie to preserve her innocent childhood, something that was left by her grandfather’s grave.

After the rushed funeral Jade was dropped at the doorstep of her aunt, Mrs. Snowman. She was a rather unpleasant woman with slight wrinkles between her brow, typically hidden by layers of powder foundation. The mansion smelled like cigarettes and perfume. Jade disliked it immediately.

She was treated with tentative indifference for the first few months. Then the two frightful daughters began tormenting Jade, barraging her with nasty words and the occasional slap on the shoulder. Jade ran tearfully to her caretaker, but the timing managed to ensure her a life of permanent pain and misery. Snowman had been carefully seducing one of her higher-ups for nearly six weeks, hoping to lead him down the path of villainy and inevitably blackmail his wife. The investment had just blossomed to a fruition when the little girl stormed uninvited into the beginning of what could have been a compromising situation.

The man had shouted a lot of words Jade didn’t care to repeat about things she didn’t understand at the time and stormed away, tie loosened and hat left crumpled on her aunt’s nightstand. Aunt Snowman was left presenting herself on the bed, with her legs spread and green eyes fuming. Jade was never forgiven.

First, she ate dinner at separate times so as not to be a ‘bad influence’ on the twins. Then, it was every meal. Jade preferred to eat in her attic bedroom, anyways. No one was there to stop her. When she wasn’t being tormented in the halls by the two cousins or worked to the bone like a servant, the young woman found solace in the woods outside the mansion. They were vast and lush, filled with untold mysteries and natural warmth in the summertime. She was taught to hunt by her grandfather, but Jade was never allowed near a bow anymore; it was improper. So instead, she watched the animals and studied them. Sometimes she would bring her sketchbook and draw the birds. Once, a deer stood still long enough for the girl to capture with her pencil.

 

This evening, she was feeling particularly daring. Jade scampered out past the garden, beyond her favorite tree, running to the outskirts of the woods.

“Wheee!” She let her hands trail out behind her, pretending she was going to never return to her aunt’s house.

The trees parted and gave way to smooth grass. Wild flowers soaked in sunlight, and fat rabbits danced between the petals. It was soft and flat, like Snowman’s garden, but it stretched for miles and miles. How could anything be this bright and colorful so close to the heart of winter? It felt impossible.

“Wow,” she whispered. Greater still, greater than anything, was the dazzling palace shining in the distance. It was the tallest, grandest thing she could imagine. Even from so far away, its spires scraped against the sky. Jade kneeled by a patch of leafy clovers and picked them idly, braiding their stems into a chain. What if she lived in that castle? Where would she go, what sorts of people would she meet? She would wear fancy ball gowns every day, much fancier than her cousins’ dresses. She would have a royal garden and a dozen ladies-in-waiting and a horse-drawn carriage made of gold.

Jade was thinking of taking a nap in the leaves when the palace started to wink orange in the light. She turned to find the sun sinking into the gentle embrace of the pink clouds. The girl gasped and clumsily gathered her things, sprinting across the woods back to the mansion, but it was too late. Jade was never to be out after sunset, and breaking the rules meant certain punishment. 

Today, the details of her punishment fell on deaf ears. Her mind was still back at the meadow, singing to the flora and dancing for the fauna. The castle glowed in the sunlight behind her back….

A sharp pain whizzed across her cheek. Her fantasy world melted away and Jade only saw her aunt, lips drawn taut and a drop of blood on her nails.

“What--”

“You never listen to me, you brat! For as long as you are under my house, you do as I say!”

Jade prayed that the twins, Odessa and Ophelia, hadn’t witnessed the slap. To her dismay, they were watching from the balcony, sniggering.

“I understand, Aunt Snowman. I’ll be more careful of the time--”

“You will never learn!” She took a few quick breaths, then shut her eyes wearily and stuck her cigar in her mouth.

A few moments passed.

“...should I--”

“Get out of my sight,  _ witch _ . Your presence has wrought nothing but curses upon my family.”

Jade bowed respectfully and scurried up the stairs to the attic. Her cheeks blushed with shame as she passed the cruel laughter of the twins.

She ran to her room and slammed her weight against the door, the echo reverberating through the house. Jade sighed. Her life was becoming the same routine of watching Odessa and Ophelia stomp about the floors, gossiping excitedly about new dresses and their school tutors while Jade worked. Sometimes, when Jade had nothing to do and Snowman was feeling particularly cruel, she would make her clean the cinders from the fireplace. It was taxing and dusty work, and she wasn’t allowed to stop until every speck had been wiped clean.

Jade’s silky black hair spilled around her shoulders as she slumped to the ground, back still to the door. She tucked her knees up and buried her face between her legs. Her life wasn’t very fun since Grandpa died, but despite the evening’s events, she was determined. She had found something new in those woods, and her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow she would go back to the meadow. Yes, once her chores were finished, she would run back out to the fields and see how close she could get to the glittery yellow castle on the horizon.

Thoughts like these gave her hope. Nowadays, it didn’t take much.


	3. Roses Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave has a word with his sister.

“Dave, why are you in my library?” Rose scowled. “You hate reading.” She was sitting cross-legged in her favorite chair as her brother the prince nervously clapped his heel on the echoey floor.

“I do not,” Dave pouted. “I just wanted a book is all.”

“If you want a book, then clearly your depression is too far gone and out of my control.”

“Shut up, Rose.”

She flipped a page and allowed her eyes to scan it tentatively, hiding that she was observing her red-faced brother. “Get your own library.”

“That’ll take such a long time, though. And the ball’s in a week.”

“It’s not a ball, it’s a gala.”

“Well the gala can suck my balls,” Dave muttered.

Rose looked up from her book. “Perhaps I should tell our brother what you just said. You could stop wallowing in self-pity long enough to get your royal ass permanently disfigured.”

“Can I have a book or not?”

She waved her hand dismissively to the rows and rows of reading. “Help yourself.”

The room was a spherical dome, with three sweeping stories of stacking marble shelves. Every book in the Kingdom was required to be copied and sent here, from foreign trading policies to menagerie indexes, under royal decree. Guards were allowed to patrol outside the doors, but never inside. 

Rose’s library was her holy sanctum, and she seldom ever left it. The only ones allowed inside were the other members of the royal family. Dirk came in sometimes to find the latest records of current events, but on an average evening, Rose would be sipping tea, and reading alone.

Dave climbed the polished stairs to the second floor, slipping into the fiction section. He pretended to be searching for something. In reality, he didn’t even know why he was here. After spending so much time in his room alone, did he just want company? If he wanted to be with his sister, why was he snapping so much? Dave understood so little of his own mind, maybe he would feel better if he could understand his sister’s. How could she enjoy spending days and nights alone lost in stories?

Dave slid his fingers across the spines and selected a book at random. It was written in Gaelic. He couldn’t even make out the title. He sighed and slipped it back into its case.

“Do you need help finding something?” Rose called.

“Uhhh… Yes?”

“What do you need.”

“A book.”

Rose paused. “...a book.”

“Yeah. You know, with… with pages, and… things.”

“Well, I certainly can’t help you there. After all, I definitely haven’t seen any  _ books  _ lately.”

“I knew that,” Dave scowled. “Look, do you want to keep being a smartass or help me out here?”

“I would love to, yes. There are books right in front of you. And behind you. Books are, in fact, completely surrounding you at the moment.”

“No, Rose! I meant… I meant a certain kind of book.”

“Well, conveniently enough for you, the genres are cleverly split into sections. You may have noticed?”

“You’re an asshat.”

“Dave, I’m beginning to suspect you don’t actually want one of my novels. What are you doing here, really?” She eyed him suspiciously.

Dave threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t really know why I do anything anymore.”

Rose paused to contemplate, then to give a pointed sigh. “Come here.”

Dave slumped down the stairs like a guilty child. Unsatisfied, Rose pointed to the armchair next to hers.

“Sit.”

“Why?”

“So we can chat about these unexpected feelings of yours.”

Dave knew that when his sister made up her mind on a solution to a problem, there was no escaping it. Dave sat.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I don’t know. I’ve just been pissed lately, and I thought I would come by.”

“What’s bothering you?” Rose asked. Dave had wrestled with this question himself for almost a month now. He was angry, and nothing made him happy anymore. He didn’t want to go to the gala. He didn’t want to do anything, really. Was he sick?

“...I feel sort of trapped.”

“Interesting. Please elaborate.”

Dave tried to think through his words carefully, but they shifted like sands, taking new meanings with every rewrite. “...I’m the youngest of four in the most powerful royal family in the world, except for maybe Prospit overseas. Even in the rare event that Dirk gets offed by some rival kingdom, Roxy’s going to be the one to take over, not me. I’m never going to be king. I’m stuck as prince forever.”

“Interesting. Why does this bother you? After all, you will never go hungry. Your every need is satisfied.”

“I guess…” Dave sunk back in his chair.  “You say that, but I’m not satisfied. I have every day of the rest of my life adhering to a plan, written before I was born by the parents I never met. I’m turning seventeen and I still don’t know anything about who I am as a person.”

The words fell out of his mouth and immediately fell back, contradicting each other and playing with his feelings. Was this all that was troubling him? He knew more of what was really bothering him now, after talking it out. He was… lonely. A sort of seeping, incurable loneliness that can’t be resolved by spending an afternoon with his sister, or desperately attempting to enjoy his birthday. He needed someone in his life, someone that wasn’t expected of him.

Rose gave a patient smile, sensing Dave’s turmoil. “The gala is in a few days. Perhaps you could find a friend there?”

Dave snorted. “Among all those fancy froo-froo dickweeds? I don’t think so.”

“Firstly, your language. Secondly, you are behaving very close-mindedly. The gala is the greatest spectacle of the year. At least try a little to enjoy yourself, hmm? I do worry for you.”

Dave looked at his shoes.

“Thanks, Rose. I feel a lot better.” He did not feel better.

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Do you?”

“No.” Dave snapped. “This was pointless. I’m sorry for wasting your time. Enjoy your books.”

“Please be safe, Dave,” Rose called. “We worry for you.”

His velvet shoes tap-tap-tapped up the stairs and disappeared behind the spiraling violet door. Rose gave another great sigh.


	4. Castles Near and Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade makes some friends.

Jade had hardly slept that night, thinking of returning to the golden castle and the beautiful meadow. She woke up early and finished all her chores before breakfast. She swept the floors to a sparkle and cleaned the old velvet drapes, she dusted the chimney new and made a breakfast for her aunt and cousins. Then she skittered out the servant’s exit and made a break for the meadow. It took almost an hour to get there, but she was smiling the whole way.

It was even more radiant at dawn; the morning sun peeked just behind the palace’s three great towers. Jade had come prepared for a full day here, with a blanket to sit on and a loaf of bread for lunch. She had never felt more contented to sit and watch the clouds.

The time seemed to disappear like early fog, and the sun warmed her weary heart. She relaxed the tension between her temples and let herself rest.

Four hours later, an arrow whizzed past her temple.

She screamed in alarm and ducked left. The arrow split her blanket and stuck straight out. It was two feet long, longer than any of her old bow’s arrows. The shaft was brilliant golden.

“What is this…” she reached out to pull it from the ground, when she heard the sounds of distant laughter.

“You are in _ so _ much trouble, John,” A voice scolded.

“It was just an accident!”

“No way. King Dad will kill you when he finds out we strayed this far.”

 

Jade thought about running, but her curiosity got the best of her. She waited pensively for the three figures to approach.

They were beautiful, and they were staring right at her. Two boys and a girl, dressed in dazzling gold from head to toe. The shorter boy with bright blue eyes looked 15 or 16, about her age. The taller boy had a cape that brushed the grass as it trailed behind him.

Jade curled her fists defensively and took a few steps back.

“Oh my gosh, is that a person?” The smaller boy murmured to the girl.

“Hello?” She called. “We’re not going to hurt you, we just want our arrow back.”

Jade had too many questions. These people looked like angels, and here she was in rags. “Are you from the castle?” She asked.

“Pfffft,” the younger boy laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t know who we are!”

“I don’t!”

“Now, now, John. She looks lost. She might be a foreigner.” The woman placed a gilded hand on the boy’s shoulder. “My name is princess Jane, of the country of Prospit. These are my brothers, prince John and prince Jake.”

Jade’s mind reeled. She had heard the name Prospit once or twice from aunt Snowman, but she was told never to ask questions. She never could have guessed they would be so close, or so dazzling. 

“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you! Your, your highnesses,” She gave a quick curtsy and averted her gaze from their beautiful clothes.

“You look strange. Are you from the outskirts?” John asked.

“No, no, your highnesses. I’m from the Snowman Mansion, in the forest.” 

“Snowman Mansion?” The green-eyed prince, Jake, pondered aloud. “Blimey, I’ve never heard of a mansion this far from the border. And why are you dressed so… poorly?”  
“I…” Jade wandered. “I suppose you could say I’m a servant. My aunt doesn’t like me very much.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but we’ll be needing our arrow. Good day.” Jane said curtly.

“Wait, wait! This has gotta be the first time I’ve met a kid my age that’s not trying to get married to me. Can she come shooting with us?” John said. Jane seemed to scoff.

“Absolutely not! If we drag this poor girl back to the range, the dignitary will tell our father and we’ll never get the end of it.”  
“The dignitary doesn’t have to know.” John retorted.

Jade was lighting up on the inside. It had been years since she was allowed near a bow, before her grandfather died. She was a fantastic shot. “I would love to go shooting with you!” She pulled the arrow from the ground. “I’ve got lots of stories, I promise we’ll be really good friends!” She stopped herself. “Er… your highnesses.”

“Cool!” John said. “We don’t get to hang out with kids our age very much. And I’ve never seen a peasant before.”  
“Oh, lord,” Jane muttered. “We are above this sort of… fine. She can come back to the range for a while, but then she has to go back to… wherever she came from.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you! It’s been so long since I’ve shot a bow, I’m so happy!” Jade cried.

“Ah, a fellow marksman! I look forward to our scrimmage.” The older prince said.

Jade struggled to find the right words. She had never had any friends before, much less any royal ones.

“What’s it like being a royal, your majesties?” She asked tentatively.

“Oh, it’s a whole lot of fuss, it drives me mad. But when you’re out and about- ah, it’s like the world is an oyster and you’re the pearl,” Jake mused. “It’s quite liberating.”

“I can’t imagine,” Jade sighed.

“We don’t get to meet a lot of people, though. King Dad’s only let us go out this far alone in the past few months.” John said.

“He doesn’t let us go out  _ this _ far,” Jane corrected.

“But don’t worry about it! The shooting range isn’t far, and they usually give us our privacy there, so long as no one loses any vital organs.”

 

Never had Jade seen a finer range, or finer bows than these. They were carved delicately and glittering beautiful, but with a strong drawback when she tested the string. She turned to Jane as if to ask permission to fire, and she nodded cautiously.

“Be careful.”

The warning barely registered to the girl. She knocked the arrow and registered it’s weight considerately, choosing a target in her mind. John and Jake watched with bated breaths, ready to test their skills against her. She shot the closest target and cleanly struck its center.

“Whoo!” John cheered. Jade smiled softly and lined a second arrow to the notch. She hit the second target’s eye, and the third. Only in the fourth target did she stray from the centre.

“Darn!”

“Are you kidding? That was awesome!” John marvelled. “I only thought my brother could shoot like that.”  
“Crikey, you’re giving me a fair fight, aren’t you?” Jake said excitedly. “I’ve been missing a competition.”

When Jade finished ousting her arrows from the targets, Jake fumbled an arrow into the notch. 

“Come on, don’t cockeye this one, Jake,” He muttered. He loosed a perfect shot into the first target, then the second. John and Jade gasped when the third arrow lodged itself perfectly to the inmost point. Jake took a long breath and steadied his arm.

“Cmon cmon cmon…” the birds seemed to stop their song. The wind caught its breath in suspense. Everything was still.

Jake released the string and lodged a perfect bullseye.

“Yes!” He roared. John gave a cheer and Jade clapped contentedly.

“Congratulations, your majesty! Sorry, I’m out of practice.”

“Ah, I say that was a fine contest! I’d be happy to challenge you again, if you like.”

What Jake did not know was how close to tears Jade was. She only had memories of such kindness, when her poppop was alive. To be welcomed and accepted by such grand figures was more than she had ever dreamed. Their kindness was moving.

“Jade? Are you alright?” Jane said.

“Yes! Yes, I’m just fine. Thank you.” Jade sniffled and stood up. “Your majesty, I’d be happy to battle you again!”

The children contested in various ways all afternoon. Jake took the next few games of archery easily, but lagged behind in racing, where Jade beat John by a hair. Jane was contented to watch, crocheting a delicate crescent moon.

Jade would have spent the rest of her life there, if she could. But only did her senses come to her when the sun swung lower into the sky.

“Oh goodness!” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry to stop our fun, but I have to go. Aunt Snowman will kill me if I’m home late twice in a row.”

“Oh, but you have to come back!” John said. “We’ll meet up with you again, we promise. How about three day’s time?”

“Speak for yourself,” Jane retorted. “But… yes, it was nice to spend the afternoon with you.”

Jade couldn’t resist herself - she scooped prince John into a sweeping hug. “Oh, your majesty, this was the best day I’ve ever had! I will come back, I promise!”  
John smiled and adjusted his crown with his free hand. “Sweet! We’ll ask King Dad if we can come out alone to shoot again. You can be our secret, though - he wouldn’t like you very much, I can imagine.”  
“It was lovely to meet you, Jade! May we cross paths again in three days.” Jake bowed goofily.

Jade ran home quicker than a hare. It was as if a flower bud had opened inside her, spilling thoughts of a new, happier life down her mind. She finally had friends, had a place to go when life was too much. She never had to feel alone again.

  
  
  



	5. Two of Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Dirk make arrangements for the masquerade gala.

Dave visited a sylph that morning.

He visited a sylph once a year with his family. When magic was banned, Dave was only five years old, and healing powers were declared illegal nation-wide on charge of witchcraft. He was too young to understand, of course, but he was told it was a dark time. Plagues crept through the nation like spiders on the kill, and it took a decade to recover. Nowadays, sylphs relied on practical methods, and their medical prowess confirmed that the royal family was salubrious. 

Today Dave came alone.

After a check and a double check, there was nothing left to say. His pulse was normal, his heart was healthy. A little pale was the worst he could prescribe. Dave’s first thought was that the man was lying; something had to be wrong, why else would he feel this way?

But no, the tests were sound. Dave was constitute. It was his emotions, and nothing more. Nothing more.

So how could he feel this way?

He thanked the sylph and closed the door gently for fear of breaking it with his crushing sadness.

 

~.~

 

“You want to do *what*?” The chamberlain bellowed.

“Only for a moment! I’m his brother, I have the right.”

“Your highness, the King is currently preparing the entire palace single-handedly for the Grand Dersian Masquerade Gala. He is very, very busy! He can’t afford to waste time on…” he adjusted his glasses and peered at Dave snootily. “What exactly did you want from the king again, your highness?”

“A moment alone with him. To talk.”

The man sighed. “I will put you on King Strider’s waiting list, but do not expect a private meeting with him until weeks after the gala. Good day, your highness.”

“Wait!” Dave shouted. “I have to see him, right now. He’s my brother, and…”

“And what, Dave?” murmured a voice from behind him. “Lord chamberlain Ampora, I trust you’ve been overseeing my affairs.”

“W-with extreme prudence, your grand majesty!” He stammered, bowing until his black locks scraped the floor.

“I will be escorting Prince David to the balcony for a moment. Please take over management until I return.”

“I-”

“That will be all.”

The chamberlain looked to dumbfounded for words. “Y-”

“Please excuse us.” Dirk grasped Dave by the shoulder and turned, his cape sweeping behind him.

“What was that all about?” Dave asked.

“Pardon my sudden intrusion,” Dirk purred. “I have to be quick, or another problem seem to root itself.”

Cracklingly cold air freshened Dave’s face as he passed from indoors to out. He shivered in his furs. The balcony was thirty stories up, seated comfortably on the pinnacle. A lone servant was polishing the violet marble, attempting to shoo a crow off the parapet. She quietly excused herself with the two mens’ arrival.

“Roxy had told me you weren’t feeling well,” Dirk started. “She wanted me to check on you.”

“Really?” Dave asked. “Wait, how did she find you? How did she even know? I haven’t seen her.”

“She has her ways,” Dirk winked. “It’d be best not to question those ways.”

“I…” The prince gathered his wayward thoughts. “How do you do it, Dirk? You’ve got so much responsibility, so much authority… you have to look completely in control through all of it. How do you stay happy?”

The wind idly wafted Dirk’s platinum hair into his face. “It’s not easy, staying composed. But once you find a drive, everything becomes clearer.” He turned to Dave. “The gala gives me a drive. It’s a mark of progress, a beautiful culmination of my hard work. It grants me clarity of mind.”

Dave averted his eyes. “I wish I had something like that.”

“You like to swordfight. You’re better than Roxy or I. Does that not fuel you?”

“No, not really.” Dave stammered.  “I think it used to. It felt good, being able to best my teachers. It felt like I had something that was all mine, something that made me special.”

“And not anymore?”

“Nope. It’s just flailing a big metal stick.”  
The King adjusted his collar and frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you,” He said quietly. “I’m sorry you feel this way, Dave. Are you looking forward to the gala, at least? It is your birthday.”

“A little, yeah.” Dave said. “Mostly? I’m just looking forward to being able to talk to someone. Maybe that Prospit prince again, he was pretty funny. But I wish I could go as… not the prince,” he sighed. “Someone normal, just going to the gala for a good time. Someone who can talk to people whenever he wants.”

Dirk turned away.

“Perhaps… that can be arranged?” He asked.

“What, really?”

“If it truly is what you want, I can claim that you weren’t feeling well just after the opening ceremony. Then you can return to your quarters and dress as someone else. Wear a different mask.”

“You would do that?” Dave replied, eyes twinkling. “That sounds amazing!”

“Please, think nothing of it.” Dirk responded, the faintest breath of a smile ghosting his face. “I’ll send a tailor to your room, you can tell them what your preference of disguise would be.”

“Something that isn’t purple,” Dave blurted.

They only stared for a moment, then burst with laughter.

“Very well, Dave. Something not purple it is.”

 


	6. Wilting Weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious performer amuses the King.

“I trust that you are in good health, your majesty?”

“I am,” The king bemused. “Please, tell me what you have prepared for me.”

“Your majesty, I am the performer that you hired from 7 o’clock to 8 o’clock in the palace outskirts of your grand masquerade gala. We were told you wished to see us perform beforehand.” The young man speaking looked Roxy’s age, with bushy black hair and thin, wiry limbs razored with scars.

An awkwardly stilted silence. Dirk waved his hand impatiently.

“Well, go on,” He commanded.

He bowed hurriedly and pulled a strange, hooked blade from his pocket. The guards to Dirk’s left and right stiffened. The performer threw the blade in the air ten feet high, and caught it easily. He equipped two similar knives and thrust them to his sides. The curvature of the blade seemed to catch in the air and tilt back into his open palms. Similar tricks followed, each more impressive than the last. Dirk’s favorite part was when the young man flicked a hidden switch and a blade struck fire. The blaze danced in open air with a talented ease. The performer caught the blade after a final trick and blew, bolstering the flame to an inferno before it was extinguished. The king clapped, slow but excited.

“What was your name?” Dirk asked.

“Vantas, your grand majesty.”

“Vantas, you have won me over with your display. I’m moving you from the outskirts to the west hall. I would be pleased to see an hour’s worth of your tricks entertaining my nobler guests.”

Vantas breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you for this honor, your majesty.”

“That will be all.” The king said. The performer bowed once more and excused himself, as another band of performers scurried in to take his place.

Vantas tightened his blade holsters and rushed himself from the palace, beyond the outskirts, beyond the city wall. He paid the ferryman and passed the Great River, the great divide between the world. Another four hours and he had reached the city gates of his hometown. The sun was vanishing behind the expanses of the forest.

Even from the distance, he could catch the gold spires of the castle Prospit glowing in the slivers of light. It’s presence mocked Vantas. There they were, prancing about preparing for a festival, and there he is, living in scrap and ruin. He despised the royal castle, and he despised even more the royal family. Their presence felt like an insult to him, and if anyone was insulting anyone, he was going to be the one to do it.

“Some food, sir?” Lilted a heavily lisped whimper.

“Oh, fuck off, Sollux,” He snapped back, before tossing the ratty boy a coin he stole from the royal guard.

“Nice to see you too,” Sollux said coyly, flashing a toothy grin. “I’m guessing the hearing went well.”

“Yeah, really fuckin’ well.” Karkat moaned. “If you like sucking up to saps like them. I hate this job.”

“It’s the best you’ve ever gotten!” Sollux retorted. “When you pull it off, you’ll be rich.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” He muttered.

“More importantly, I’ll be rich.”

“Fuck off.”

 

“I’m back,” He announced. His house was coated with dust, broken pottery and spiders littering the floor. “Are you home?”

“I am.” He couldn’t see him, but his presence was palpable. A slinking black shadow prowled in the other room. “Welcome home, Karkat.”

“I have good news,” Karkat said. “The King liked my show. He’s moving me to the west hall.”

The shadow flashed a grin at him. “Perfect. You’ll get a much better angle from there.”

Karkat’s shoulders dropped. He slumped against the wall and took off his equipment, first the thin weighted sickles, then the straps and belts keeping them in place. Instead of the table, he opted to throw them into the adjacent wall. Each knife struck a new crack into the crumbling stone.

“Remember your place, Vantas. Think of all we have to gain from this.”

“All * _ you* _ have to gain from this.” Karkat grumbled. The seventh and final knife implanted itself in the wall, forming a perfect circle.

“Don’t pretend I’m not paying you, boy. We only have a week to prepare you. And when the moment comes…” A thick black finger slid across his throat. “You have to take it.”

A drip of sweat fled down his back. He turned away.

“Do you understand?”

Karkat shivered.

“I understand, Jack.”


	7. The Thing with Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade has a happy conversation with her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The title is a reference to Emily Dickinson's famous poem 'Hope', where she refers to it as a bird that perches within the soul. I recommend it.

“I’m going out, Aunt Snowman!” Jade shouted. She rushed to the door like a moth to the flame.

“Stop. Hold it.” her aunt responded. The young woman skidded to an unexpected halt and tapped her foot eagerly, ready to race out the door. Surely this couldn’t be that important?

“You finished your chores?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You cleaned yourself up?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aunt Snowman frowned, a deep line etching through her caked face. “You’re awfully spry. I don’t like it.”

Jade tilted her head to one side. “What? Why not-”

“Don’t interrupt,” she snapped. “Where are you going all a sudden, hmm? Why don’t you tell me where you’re sneaking off to every day?”

Jade shrunk back like a scorned puppy. It wasn’t as if she could explain herself in truth. Aunt Snowman would be furious if she found out that the royal family were her new playmates.

“I… made some friends. In the woods,” Jade stammered.

“Friends?” Snowman scowled. “What sort of friends? Thieves and witches, like you?”

“No!” she cried. “Just- just some other kids, is all.”

“There aren’t other children for miles from here. Just the twins and you.”

“I…” Jade grappled with her words like she was trying not to drop them. “I, uh…”

Aunt Snowman sneered. She lifted her opera cigar to her drooping, painted lips. “There are no other children, are there, child?” she scorned. “You’re playing with yourself, out there. God, you’re pathetic.”

I’m sorry, Aunt Snowman,” Jade conceded. This was far easier than the truth. “I’ve just been having so much fun, out there. P-pretending like I have friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” Snowman responded, taking a long drag and sighing it’s vapor on Jade’s face. “Go ahead. Act like a hooligan in the forest, for all I care. At the very least my children and I don’t have to be seen with you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You are welcome. Now get out.”

Jade shut the door quietly to not fuel her aunt’s temper. She limped a few paces forward and took as fast as possible to the castle.

 

“She’s just, so… mean,” Jade sighed wistfully. “I don’t know what I’m to do around her.”

“I’m so sorry, Jade!” Jake said. “That sounds like a mighty handful to go home to.”

Today they were having a picnic in the grass, like Jade had planned when they had met. Jade could only bring a loaf of stale bread, but the Prospit children brought juicy white meats and juice made from cranberries and sweet, ripe berries of all assortments. It was better than anything she had ever eaten, but Jade made sure to behave politely and eat slow as she could.

“We have a tutor a bit like that.” John said. “She’s a real stick in the mud.”

“John!” Jane chided. “We’ve got everything we could hope for, we can’t compare a lifetime of shame and injustice to Ms Spinneret.”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just trying to relate.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. It’s nice to just have someone to talk to, really,” Jade said. “I’ve never had anyone like that before. My cousins are awful at worst, and boring at best.”

“Is there anything we can do to help you?” Jane asked. “Of course, we can’t raise any attention from the palace, or they might tell father. But something we can do to make your life softer.”

Jade smiled, quiet yet distinctively full of life. “You are making my life better, Jane. Having me for lunches, playing with me, sharing your stories. Why, my life was miserable before I met you all.”

“Ah, you’re too kind yourself, Jade!” Jake chipped in. “It’s hard to come by company like you. Especially, er, after almost shooting them on accident.”

“Actually, I do have one request.” Jade said. “Tell me about your days! We’ve been too caught up on my little life, I want to hear about your grand adventures.”

“Oh!” John piped. “We’ve all been really busy today. Our tailor’s been fitting us for the Masquerade Gala at Derse next week. We’ve gone every year, it’s a real blast. Even if it’s so cold over there.”

“Masquerade Gala?” Jade questioned. “Derse? What are those?”

Jane folded her arms quizzically. “You’ve never heard of Derse? It’s our neighbor country, just across the Great River.”

“Oh! Is that the big dance? I heard my cousins mentioned they ordered gowns a few days ago.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’d never heard of Derse, though.”

“We’re kind of, like, twin nations?” John said. “We were created around the same time, and we share a lot of history together. Jane’ll probably have to marry King Dirk, at least that’s what I heard the chamberlain say.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Jane huffed. “That stuffy hosh-posh isn’t much my taste. Oh, and between you and me…” Jane leaned in close and turned to Jake. “I don’t think he has much of an eye for women.”

“Wait, what?” Jake said puzzled.

“Oh, nevermind. Either way, he’s run the gala every year since he was crowned. It’s the biggest event of the winter; special performers on every hall, contests and caterers and flower gardens. A wonderful time.”

Jade had never been to a gala, she thought. It sounded like an awful lot of fun. Maybe, she thought, maybe if she cleaned the rafters without being told, and sewed her own dress…

No, no, Jade thought, her aunt would never allow it.

Unless, of course, Jade was really-super-extra-careful?

John took a bite of his golden apple. “I like it okay. I met Prince Dave there, and he was fun to sword fight with.”

“Prince Dave?”  
“The third in line. There’s also Princess Rose, who’s kind of a shut-in. And Princess Roxeanne! Last gala, she outdrank every other nobleman at the private banquet right under the table. It was wicked awesome.”

“And a bit unsanitary,” Jane muttered, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Well-” Jade stopped herself saying ‘I would love to meet them there’. “I would love to see your masquerade outfits, once they’re finished.”

“Sure! We can sneak them out here to show you, they’re always really pretty. As long as they don’t get dirty. Our tailor would totally kill us,” John moaned.

Yes, Jade thought happily. And maybe I’ll be able to show you mine, too.


	8. Dead of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave receives two packages before he goes to sleep.

“Do the robes fit to your liking, your highness?” Asked the tailor meekly.

“What?” Asked the prince. “Oh! Oh, yes, they’re wonderful.”

It was true - the suit fit perfectly. It had broad shoulders and a thin, cinched waist, with a traditional silver mask emblazoned with cut amethysts. Two earrings draped his ears; twin purple moons, the mark of Derse.

The man bowed and scurried from Dave’s private quarters, nearly tripping on the soft velvet carpet out of anxiety.

Dave’s room was cold and sparse. He avoided it as often as possible; it was a cruel reminder of his apathy towards life in general terms. Bright violet pillars groaned in the corners. There was a little writing desk crammed in the far right of the room, where he would sometimes write poetry but later give up and crumple its contents in the little bin tucked underneath said writing desk.

Dave folded the dress suit neatly and placed it in its box. It was strong and stiff and grotesquely purple. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but distaste for them. 

After unbuttoning his shirt and unclasping his earrings, Dave tucked himself under his covers and diffused the candle with his fingers, delicately setting aside his sunshades. Dave had been prescribed them from an early age- an unnatural delicacy to the light, just like his brother. The infection marked itself on his eyes with an unnatural, crimson chroma, and he was too ashamed to ever take the shades off. He lauded himself on his being a tad more practical than his brother’s; in reality, they were a thoughtful gift from Prospit for the last masquerade. He wore the silly pointed ones when they were still his fashion.

Dave gave a deep sigh. Three days, he thought. Three more days of meaningless meandering and you get to live three days uncaged at the masquerade. Three days of dull for three days of freedom. That wasn’t so bad, right?

He heard a quiet package slide under his door, and a servant’s slippers pitter-patter down the hallway. Dave rubbed his weak eyes and stood, hesitantly relighting his candle. Inside was a letter wax sealed with the insignia of his own palace.

 

To Dave.

I hope this was what you were looking for.

 

Dave tore it open and found the hollowed eyes of a crow’s head staring right through him.

He almost let the box fall through his hands, but steadied himself and chided, no, this is what you were looking for. It was the incognito suit he had commissioned for the gala, to go with in secret. A bone-white crow mask, with a deep red tailor-fitted two piece suit. It was temptingly silky and warm to the touch.

Dave lifted the button-up undershirt from the box and draped it over his shoulders, to feel it on his skin. He wanted to live in this shirt. It was so unlike what Dave was allowed to wear, smooth and crisp and not married with the royal insignia.

He wondered if he would meet anyone at the gala. Some normal boy or girl with a beautiful dress, who would like his crow mask and go to see the performers with him. Who he could tour around the palace gardens, and impress with his intimate knowledge of the flowers, and lean in close with to smell the roses… he smiled dimly and shook the thought like a dead leaf from a tree in Fall.

Dave returned the clothes to their box, but this one he hid under his bed so no stray servant would find.

Perhaps the normal gala attendants liked to dance, too.

He smiled a secret smile and pinched his candle’s light out once more.


	9. Ich Luge Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade makes herself a gown.

“I’m home, ma’am,” Jade called. No answer; she must be in her study. Good. Jade smiled and shut the door quietly. She skidded down the hall, stifling a little giggle.

Three doors down to the right was a well lit, airy room full of windows. It was head to toe with fabrics, thread, beads and sequins. Aunt Snowman was a snob, but very proud of her needlework. The twins are less impressive, but Jade learned quickly, even without her Aunt’s teachings. She was no master, but she knew her way around a stitch.

Jade skipped to a soft roll of cloth and planned a design in her head. It’d be relatively shapeless, but she had one old corset she could wear underneath. A few shiny white beads here, green stitches there, and she’d have a night sky in her gown.

Aunt Snowman was huffy about letting Jade use her collection, but never strictly objected. She wouldn’t let her near the expensive sewing machines, though. So the young woman did all of her stitches by hand, with a little silver needle she found in the back of a box. She hummed quietly while she worked, thinking about how happy Jade and John and Jake would be to see her there. Maybe she could surprise them! Oh, what a delight that would be!

Of course, Jade didn’t have any plans for a mask; maybe they’d be handing some out. After all, she couldn’t be the only one to arrive maskless. She bet her friends had beautiful masks. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see them there.

“There!” She cried, poking the needle through the fabric once more. She pulled until the string was taught and cut. It was a little longer than intentional, but she supposed it would make a nice train. Now she would work in some faux pearls and it’d be fit for a gala.

“What are you doing?” interrupted Baisley, the louder and nosier of the two twins.

“Oh- nothing!” Jade shouted in surprise. “I was, er, sowing myself a dress.”

Baisley wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Um…” Jade had hoped to tell Snowman in private about her plan, after she had done a few extra chores as a bribery. “I was going to ask if I could go to the masquerade gala.” 

She discreetly rolled her eyes as Baisley gave a haughty, over dramatic laugh. “*You* want to go to the gala? You’ve never gone before. Momma won’t ever allow it!”

“Well,” Jade said firmly, “I’m going to convince her.”

Baisley’s smile faded. “I’ll tell her.”

“Wh-no, don’t!” Baisley took off running. Jade threw the dress aside and was hot on her heels. She was much faster, but Baisley had a significant lead. She burst open the door to Snowman’s private study.

“Momma! Momma!” She wheezed between long breaths. “Jade said she wants to go to the gala with us.”

Aunt Snowman laid down her book. “The gala?”

“Please, ma’am!” Jade cried. “I promise I’ll work extra hard, you won’t see a spot of dust. I promise, please!”

“Don’t let her go, momma!” Baisley wailed. “We’ll look ugly next to her!”

“Quiet,” Snowman snapped. Instantly the children’s backs straightened. She stood and walked to her cigarette holder, balancing it in her fingers.

“Don’t let her go,” Baisley mumbled.

“...well, I can’t see any reason why you can’t go,” Snowman said slowly. “If you get all your chores done.”

“Oh, I will! I promise-”

“And find something suitable to wear.”

Jade thought of her gown downstairs. “I’m sure I could.”

“Then once all is finished, you are welcome to attend.” 

“Momma!!” Baisley shrieked.

“Silence.” She took a puff of smoke. “Go about your business. You best be ready for the ball.”

 

Jade’s heart lifted with joy, like a dandelion seed floating on a jovial gust of wind. She finished her daily regiment with a newfound whimsy, whistling as she hand-pressed her cousins’ gala dresses. When she finished, she pressed her own and hung it on a rack in the sewing room.

The next morning, she was headed out the door to visit her friends-- but stopped herself. She had just seen them two days ago, and she didn’t want to seem too needy. Besides, she would be seeing them at the Masquerade gala!

Instead, she added a little more onto her dress, to curve the energy of her excitement. While perusing the room’s stock, she noticed a beaded pearl necklace on a hanger. How had she not seen this before, she wondered? It would go perfectly with her gown. She also found a bright green sash misplaced by rolls of fabric and tied it around the corset waist. It was perfect, she thought. 

The night before the night before the ball. Tomorrow, she would scrape the house clean. For now, she would sleep. She dreamt of dancing with foreign princesses and princes, and wearing a dress made of midnight.

 


	10. Freezing Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade has a long day.

The sun was pink and lazy in the winter sky. Morning dew clung to the fir trees, not quite frozen, not quite thawed. Jade’s breath made little clouds of dreamy mist behind her as she walked home. She hoped it wouldn’t be this cold on the masquerade tonight.

Jade set down her bucket of frothy soap water and wet a cloth to scrub the downstairs windows. Work like this was boring, and repetitive, and entirely easy once you got used to it. She worked diligently for the better part of a half hour until they sparkled like spun sugar glass. Jade smiled at that thought. She pretended the house was made of dark chocolate and frosting, and her gown inside was made of sweet black licorice and beads of mint. Her mouth watered.

“Jade,” Aunt Snowman snapped.

“Oh!” Jade stammered in surprise. “G-good morning, ma’am.”  
“I do hope you’re at the day’s end of your work,” She cood. “We’re leaving early for the gala. 3 o’clock sharp.”

“I- I thought we were leaving at 7!”

“Change of plans.” Jade spied a cruel smile hinting at the corners of Snowman’s thin lips. “We want to arrive early, in hopes of spying the King. We wouldn’t want to pass up an opportunity to introduce Baisley and Barnum to the most eligible bachelor in the four kingdoms.”

Jade wrinkled her nose a little. King Dirk sounded like a drag.

“Will you be finished with your work by then?”

Jade huffed. She would have to double down on dusting the corners, cleaning the drapes, folding the laundry, polishing the tables… she could do it, if she worked. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it.”

 

A half of the day disappeared like passing mists in Jade’s mind. She heaved a huge breath and collapsed on the sofa, broom still in hand. She nervously checked the time. 2:30. Success! She allowed herself only a moment of rest before rushing to the sewing room and slipping on her dress.

It was a little snug, but still as beautiful as she remembered. Beaded stars danced on her chest and the sash tickled her hips flirtatiously. Her bronze arms were unshaven; she didn’t own a razor, and she didn’t have much interest in cutting her body’s hair anyways. She hoped no one noticed. 

Jade giggled and clipped the bead necklace around her neck. Then she adjusted the bodice and skipped out of the room.

Aunt Snowman and the twins were waiting there. Aunt Snowman wore a black velvet cardigan and an enormous black hat. The twins wore purple and yellow ball gowns, with matching ties and disturbing horned masks that only covered half their face.

“Where’s your mask?” Barnum scowled.

“I… don’t have one,” Jade faltered. “But they’ll be passing ones out at the Gala.”

“Momma, she can’t come! She looks hideous.”

“I made a promise, darling.” Snowman’s eyes gleamed. “And I never break a promise.”

Jade shivered.

“How very clever,” She continued. “These beads. They give it just the right touch. Wouldn’t you agree, Baisley?”

“Why no, I think it looks…” Baisley stopped. “Wait! Wait, those are _ my _ beads!”

Her heart sunk down to her kidneys and crashed right out through her stomach. She’d been set up.

“Is that my sash?” Barnum spat. “You little brat.” she stomped up to her and started tugging at the bow.

“Stop!” Jade yelled. “Stop it, I made this! Stop-” She choked on her words as Baisley pulled at the beads, strangling her. It snapped off her neck. Beads tumbled to the floor. Barnum shouted something as the sash came undone, pulling off several inches of the black fabric over the corset as well. Jade screamed as she was pulled to the floor, the twins snatching at the seams and stealing the stars off her midnight sky. Barnum kicked her face, shattering her spectacles. The glass razored across her face, barely missing her eyes and instead scraping at her nose and temples. 

“Girls!” Snowman said, when it was all over. “Please. Control yourselves. We have a gala to attend.”

They stepped away and scurried to their mother, who opened the heavy spruce doors.

“Goodbye, Jade.” She smiled.

 

The door slammed and Jade was alone, bruised and broken. She was bleeding just above her ribs, where Baisley raked her nails along a patch of bare skin where they had ripped her dress. Her dress. The beads were all dangling on the strings or abandoned on the cold marble floor. It still clung to her skin, but she was barely decent. It was unwearable to a gala.

She waited until she couldn’t hear the carriage’s horses anymore. Then she flung herself at the doors and ran into the woods.

Jade didn’t cry. When her grandfather died, she let herself shed a tear, let it slip from her chin and splash at the ground where he was buried six feet below. She promised she wouldn’t ever shed a tear again. They were her grandfather only. Jade didn’t cry, she said. Today wouldn’t count. So she sobbed and wailed and made pathetic gurgling noises, disgusting and disgusted with herself.

When she made it to the meadow, she collapsed. It was freezing. She could feel the wetness on her face drying into ice. So she curled into a ball and clenched her fists into the grass, praying that whatever happened next she never had to look her family in the eyes again.


	11. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and her brothers go searching for their friend.

Jane twirled a little, letting the silky gold fabric flash in the sunlight. Three layers of fabric, her tailor said; one for beauty, one for decency, one for warmth. The elegant skirt trailed upwards to a rococo patterned bodice, with a low-hanging laced neckline winding to delicate sleeves trailing just past her elbows. A little old fashioned, just the way Jane wanted it.

“It’s perfect.” She nodded. “Thank you, Kanaya.”

“You’re welcome, your highness.” Kanaya was the youngest woman on the royal staff, and had an unforgiving eye for fashion. Her short hair fanned upwards stylishly and accentuated the high cheekbones on her long, pointed face. “I’ve prepared two alternative gowns for the three days spanning the gala. Would you like to look them over?”

“Not right now, I’m afraid. My brothers would like to go shooting, I will deign to attend.” In reality, they were heading out into the forest to look for their friend, Jade. She hadn’t come to visit in days, and they feared something had affected their home life. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell that to her father’s staff: word spread like the plague in this household.

“Very well. I’ll send them to your boudoir for your later inspection. Good day, your highness.”

Jane changed out of her gown and into her riding clothes and cape, flowy and comfortable yet still burning yellow. She gave a modest curtsy while exiting the tailor’s and sashayed to the stables, where John and Jake were waiting for her.

“There you are!” John shouted. “Now, let’s go see if we can find our friend.”

The three of them had personal horses, trained since birth for them. Jane’s was deep mottled brown, with a long black mane and tail. She named her Betty when she was nine, for no reason in particular. She had never liked riding much, but it was the fastest way to look the forest. The three of them looked to each other and nodded. Then they took off for the pine trees past the meadow.

They spent a good half hour scouring the woods together, occasionally calling her name to see if she was around.

“What’s the deal?” John pouted. “I thought she said she spent her whole day out here when she finished working.” 

A deeper inspection found a road departing from a shoddy yet respectable estate. It was gigantic and lopsided, like no one was quite sure where they were going with this whole house thing when it was built. Big glass windows were hidden with rows of rich velvety curtains.

“Do you reckon this is where she lives?” Jake asked.

Jane stepped off her horse and dusted her pantaloons. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.” She took a calming breath and gave two loud raps on the doorframe.

No response. She tried again after a few breaths of silence. Nothing.

“No one’s home.”

“Bugger!” Jake swore. “I’m not sure what to do at this point. Perhaps she moved away?”

Jane didn’t want to consider that. Despite her rugged appearance, she really had grown close to the mysterious foreign girl. They all had. She was funny, and kind, and an excellent archer to boot. Life was a little less dreary with her around.

“...well, either way, for now there’s nothing to be done about it. Let’s go home. We’ll try again in the morning.”

John huffed and snapped on his reigns, dashing back towards the castle. Jake shrugged drearily and followed after. Jane nodded. At least they were listening to her.

She was just arriving at the meadow when she spotted her brother’s horses, with no riders.

“John? Jake?” She shouted, slowing.

“Over here!” The deep accented voice of her oldest brother. She dismounted and followed his voice.

John and Jake were hunched together, a figure in their arms. Jade. She was dripping with tears, and blood was trickling down her bare stomach. She was wearing something black. It was so ripped and tattered it was unrecognizable. Her round glasses were broken, and long scratches wound around her face, like the glass was dragged across.

“Oh my gods,” Jane breathed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” John said. “We just found her like this.”

Jane unclipped her cape and draped it around the girl’s battered frame. “Hussssh, hush now. You’re gonna be okay. Why don’t you tell us what happened to you?”

Jade blubbered out little words about how she planned to surprise them at the gala, how she spent days creating a masterpiece to wear, how her cousins tore it all down. How sorry she felt that they had to see her in such a state, how she’ll run right on home after this.

“No, no, absolutely not.” Jake said. “We’ll make this right, don’t you worry.”

John got that far off look in his eyes, like he was concocting a scheme. His eyes got glassy and his lips curled up, like half a smile. “Jane?”

“Yes?”

“Jade’s about your size, isn’t she?”  
Jane frowned. “I suppose. A little skinnier, a little shorter. Why?”

“She put in all this effort, she worked so hard, all to try and surprise us. We have to take her to the gala this year!” Jade’s dewy eyes peeked under the fabric of the cape she had wrapped around her like a blanket.

“What? Nooooo, no no no no. Absolutely not.” Jane said. “It’s far too risky. What if someone sees her?”

“We’ll sneak her in our carriage! We arrive at the gates, have Jade trail behind a little, no one will notice.”

Jane opened her lips, but she was still thinking. A few arrangements, some words with her private servants… Jane was the firstborn to the Prospit throne, if she wanted something to happen it would happen. She could make this work.

“....fine,” Jane conceded. “Let’s bring her home with us through the back way, I’ll work something out.”

John pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

Jade gave a shy smile. “Thank you, Jane. Thank you so, so much.” She grabbed the ends of the cape and wrapped her arms around Jane in a blanket-hug. The princess gave a slight protest, but eventually hugged her right back.

“You deserve this, Jade. You deserve so much more than you have.”

Jade pulled back and gave a wide, toothy, happy grin.

“Now, let’s ride back to the palace and get you into some real clothes.”


	12. Rotten Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gives Karkat a gift.

A sudden grab of his shoulder snapped Karkat out of his disassociation like the snapping of a rubber band.

“I have a gift for you,” Jack said. Karkat's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Jack didn't give anyone anything without something in return. The dark shadow of a man waved to the back room.

Draped across the filthy table was a magnificent ivory suit, with a furred overcoat and shining white cravat. A torn thread in the waist hinted at the outfit’s age, but did nothing to distract from its brilliance.

A mask, too. Pale as bones, and just as dead looking. It was the face of a dog, with rows of disturbing sharp teeth. There was a tiny chip in the corner of the left eye hole.

Karkat realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled, a little too fast. He reached out to touch it. The fur was as smooth as water in his hands.

“Where…” He murmured. “Where the *fuck* did you get this?”

Jack smiled. It didn’t feel friendly, more like an animal baring his teeth. “I was a rich man. Once.”

“I can’t fucking believe you own this. I haven’t eaten today, and you have this just lying around--”

Jack cuffed Karkat across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. Blood flooded his taste buds.

“This is your gift, you goddamn moron. Be grateful. You have to look prissy when you perform for the king tonight.” 

Karkat wiped the blood off his face and lifted to stand. Jack pushed him back to the ground with his foot.

“I’m going out. I want you to go to the river and wash. You’re disgusting.”

“Yes, sir,” Karkat spat, glowering.

“You come home, and you put this on. Then you walk to the river. Pay for a trip across with this.” Noir pulled a coin from his pocket and flicked it at Karkat. It struck his face, making him flinch.

“You ferry across, and you hitch a ride with other performers.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You throw your stupid knives for a few hours. You wait until the King drops by.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then you throw that knife, and you  _ strike the motherfucker in the throat _ .”

Karkat’s gaze fell.

“Yeah.”

“I wanna hear a yes sir, boy.”

Karkat’s eyes flickered up to meet that cold, black stare, but they couldn’t quite stay there. “Yes, sir.” He spluttered.

He could feel those eyes boring holes through his greasy head.

“What was that?”

He had to be strong. He had to be here, he had to do this. He had to meet his eyes.

So he did.

“Yes, sir.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update.

Good afternoon, readers.  
I'd like to thank you if you've made it this far into my story. It means something to me that total strangers have been able to find me and my work and take something meaningful out of it. Unfortunately, that story is going to take a little longer than I anticipated to complete.

On September 21 at midnight, my kitten Pachinko died. We'd only had him for days, at most. He was eight weeks old and succumbed to fading kitten syndrome.  
That little boy had so quickly become my life that losing him was like a little death of my own. He died just the way he lived-- calmly, quietly, and bittersweet.

This was my first pet, and in a way, my first brush with death in my personal life. It will take a while to recover to the point of re-adopting my old responsibilities.

I ask that you not give up on my silly little story, as I do plan to return. Consider subscribing to it or to me if you're enjoying; that way you will know when I come back.

Please send your prayers to my little boy, and to me and my grieving family.


	14. Roses Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanaya prepares Jade for the gala.

Jade flinched a little when Jade pulled the heavy gold doors open, revealing a wide, well-lit room with billowing curtains and a lone seamstress pushing a needle through a ballgown.

“Oh, hello, your highness...es,” The woman said. “I was making some final adjustments to your backup gown…. Er.” She pointed at Jade. “Who is that?”

“Change of plans, Kanaya.” Jane said. “I want you to pin this dress for her. She’s accompanying us to the ball this evening.”

Kanaya opened her mouth, but all that came out was a dull “uhhhh.”

“She’s about two sizes smaller. Shouldn’t take much, just some cinching in the back. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just entirely unnoticeable and effortlessly comfortable. Am I clear?” She commanded.

“Yes! Yes your, ahem. Your highness.” Kanaya stammered.

“Wonderful. I will leave her here for measurements. Take her input very seriously on this matter.” She turned to show a sharp blue eye. “If father hears a word of this, I will fire you on the spot and leave you to patch up miner’s clothes in the coal mines.”

“Is this really alright?” Jade piped. “I don’t want to bother her.”

“Oh, don’t worry your head about it, Jade. It’s her job.” Jane smiled and squeezed Jade’s hand, before closing the doors behind her.

“Ahem.” Kanaya cleared her throat. “Since I do not have much time to work with, I’ll simply have to dress you in this.” She gestured to the ornate gown on the mannequin. It was soft pink, with a delicately cinched corset parting like a rose around a magnificent flaring skirt that trailed just past the ankles to tease a pair of pink blossom slippers. Draped round the shoulder were two pearly pink gloves, dotted with little taffy colored beads and two lacey golden moons embroidered onto the palms. “Would you like to see the mask, your… er… ma’am?”

“Yes, yes please! Thank you.” Jade said.

“Very good.” She walked to a well crafted golden cabinet and removed a small rose gold mask. Little pink flowers dotted the bridge and lilted about the eyes. “This will highlight your face like a charm.”

She stretched her fingers towards the mask, hesitating for fear of breaking it. It looked like it was made for a porcelain doll, not to be worn by her.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. The mask will adhere to your face when you wear it, even if it’s dropped I doubt it’ll even scratch.”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe it, is all.” Jade looked into the dark eyes of the tailor. “Do you go to the masquerade, Kanaya?”

“I do. Once the preparations are finished, me and some of the other servants ferry across the river together. It’s something of a wintertime tradition of ours.” She explained, with a wry smile. “Why do you ask?”

Jade beamed. “No reason. I just thought it would be nice to see you there.”

Kanaya seemed taken aback. “Well… that is very kind of you, ma’am.”

The shorter girl stuck out a calloused hand. “Jade. Jade harley.”

She seemed confused, but eventually took it and gave her a prim handshake. Jade could see the work put in to cover those hands. They were soft and almost sparkling, clearly lathered with soaps and lotions. Her nails were filed and painted a deep green. But if you looked, you could see pin prick scars were she was poked by her needles, or shadows of bruises hinting at days of hard labor. She had just as long and weary of a life as Jade’s own, even if she got to work at a palace like this one.

“Come say hello to me at the gala, Kanaya. We can get to know each other.” She tilted her head as she spoke, shuffling her messy black hair.

“Yes, Jade. I think I would like that.” It was refreshing to see a genuine smile on such an elegant, cold woman. 

“Now. Her highness wants you ready for the gala in an hour’s time, so we don’t have much to work with. I’m escorting you to the private bath chambers, where we’ll clean you up. Then I’m brushing your hair, doing your makeup and we should have you in the dress before 5 o’clock.” Kanaya paused, making sure Jade took all that in. “I’m not sure what her highness’s plans are for the full three days of the gala. You’ll have to ask her about that.”

Jade blinked. She hadn’t taken a bath in months. She’d never worn makeup in her entire life. 

“Are you ready, ma- Jade?”

Jade nodded. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she couldn’t wait to find out.

“Good. Then follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still do not expect chapter updates to be as close together as they were before. The death took a lot out of me, and considering I write this story for no purpose it's difficult to get up and do.  
> I hope you're all having wonderful evenings.


	15. Beginner's Banquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Dirk calls a toast.

Every year, before the ball started proper, there was a short private banquet beforehand for the Dersite royalty, the various Dukes and Duchesses, and the staff of the castle. It was a tradition started by Dirk himself to acknowledge the hard work of his employees and highlight his reign as one of justice for the people. For this banquet, Prince Dave would have to make a public appearance.

But afterwards, he thought, he would retire to his room and spend the rest of the evening as a phantom of his own design.

Dirk, of course, was magnificent in his intricacy. His mask was lacey and dark like a violet night sky. Nearly a hundred hours were spent on his cape alone, coutured with innumerable symbols and tens of thousands of twinkling stars, with one moon hung around the back of his shoulders. Dirk was glowing too, with the kind of happiness he was addicted to, the kind he was only graced with once a year.

Dave envied his passion.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dirk spoke above the noise, “It gives me great privilege to celebrate the twenty-first annual Gala in my honor. This will be a night of joy and celebration, of wonder and mystery.”

Of  _ magic _ , Dave wanted to say. Of wonder and of magic. That’s how the line went when their father spoke it, when they were children. When magic was banned, it was written out of the script.

Dave shuffled a bit in his chair, catching the attention of the sister on his left.

“You alright, bro bro?” Roxy whispered. “I heard about your super secret plan to sneak out tonight.”

She was wearing a bright pink mask and corset that gave way to a setting sun skirt. Exquisitely fragile lavender gloves were already soiled with a spot of stolen wine.

“I know you know,” Dave sighed. “How do you know, exactly?”

She winked. “I know everything. And I know you know I know that you’ve gotta be extra extra careful, okay?” her pink eyes weren’t glazed over with drink-- a rare sight indeed. Dave knew this would be the last time he spoke to his real sister before the party was over.

“I’ll be careful. And I love you, sis.”

Dave heard a smattering of claps, signalling the speech’s conclusion, and lifted his hands as a formality. Roxy sauntered off to the banquet hall with a lazy wave behind her.

Dave made a small bow to his brother the King has he approached. “Forgive me, your majesty, but I’m feeling rather under the weather.”

Dirk quirked a sarcastic eyebrow. “Oh, are you now?”

“Would you be insulted if I retired to my bedchambers?”

“Not at all.” Dirk leaned in a little closer. “Enjoy the party by yourself, David. I’m here if you need me.”

Dave nodded.

“Good. Now off to bed, you rapscallion.”

It was barely a second after Dave left his side before Dirk was crowded with guests. Dave thought about stepping in, but he left him to it. It was his birthday, after all. He deserved a warm welcome.

Dave gave a secret smile and gently shut the palace door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for my tardiness. The grief... hasn't been sitting well with me.  
> We finished the funeral this week. I'm hoping I can return to a normal schedule, but I must admit my spark is flickering. I promise not to give up, but I do not promise to adhere to my old update schedule.


End file.
